


Jealousy

by Lovecomesinattheeyes



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Incest, Jealousy, Light Angst, Light Bondage, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-29
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-21 06:45:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11938533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lovecomesinattheeyes/pseuds/Lovecomesinattheeyes
Summary: Jon gets a bit possessive of his Queen after a visit from her previous consort.





	1. Quick Tempered

Jon kicks open the door to his and the Queen’s solar. She follows him through. His rage is palpable.

“I don’t like how that cretin looks at you,” He turns to look at his wife, his hands are shaking with an anger she has not seen since they fought the Battle for the Dawn. She says nothing in response. She fears saying anything may worsen it.

“And the way he speaks, his subtle jabs at having seen you naked before.” She walks over and pours two goblets of wine. She takes her cup to an oversized chair and sits down, watching her husband pace before her. “He’s lucky I didn’t cut his tongue from his mouth.”

“Jon,” she says softly and he turns to look at her, his hand on the pommel of Longclaw and his eyes alight with fury. “Daario means nothing to me anymore. He meant nothing to me before.” She sets the goblet down and stands, striding over to him. “You are my King. You are the father of my children. You are the Protector of The Realm.” Her hands rest on the chest of his armor, covering the direwolf sigil.

“Aye,” he huffs letting some of the steam out of his ire. “I know this, but it doesn’t change the fact that I dislike having him here. I’ve seen him lurking, watching you from afar and from the shadows, looking at you as if you’re some piece of meat. As if he wants to conquer you all over again.”

“He never conquered me before.” She dismisses his suggestion at the thought with a quirk of an eyebrow. “I am a dragon, dragons cannot be conquered.”

“Don’t you think I’m aware of that?” His voice softens as he looks down at his strong, beautiful, loving wife.

“Yes” She acquiesces, his reverie as well as his loyalty to her have always been something that has evoked deep stirrings within her. She stretches up to capture his lips with hers. He gets lost in the feel of her soft mouth before he pulls back suddenly, as if she had struck him rather than kissed him.

“Wait,” He ponders the exchange from earlier and the words Daario had said. “You told me I had been the only one who had given you the Lord’s Kiss…” His eyes bore into hers. “But his words from earlier…” Jon steps away from his Queen as he begins angrily unbuckling Longclaw from his waist. He forcefully sets the legendary weapon upon the dining table.

She rolls her eyes as she steps away. “Do you honestly expect me to remember the details of the nights that man spent in my bed?” She walks back to her goblet of wine, emptying the contents and moving to the jug to refill. “It feels like a lifetime ago. I hardly remembered the curve of his face tonight, how can you expect me to remember the touch of his hand?

“It’s not the touch of his hand that has me wanting to remove his head from his shoulders.” Jon replies coldly. She watches with narrowed eyes as he removes his decorative armor, the kind he only wears for special occasions. 

The tenth name day of their first born son, Daemon, was something to celebrate. She hadn’t exactly invited Daario, but Tyrion insisted that at the very least they invite the mercenary group. After all, they did assist with her rise to power in Essos. She had agreed, hoping that perhaps Daario had gotten himself killed. It turned out he had done the exact opposite. He had risen to power within the ranks and was now the lead commander of the sellsword army.

They had spent the night with little interaction until Daario had approached the King and Queen’s table, requesting to present a gift for the Prince. He had produced an ornate sword. It was pretty, but it was no Valyrian steel longsword such as the one that Jon wore at all times.

They allowed their son to accept the gift but Daario had remained in front of the Monarchs. His eyes had begun to undress the past Khaleesi and he turned his charm onto her, right there in front of Jon. “Queen Daenerys, you have given birth to such beautiful children. To think that your body gifted the world with the best parts of you, well that is something that you should be worshiped for. I pray that your husband realizes how lucky a man he is, that he lavishes you with affection and kisses you as intimately as I once did.”

The Queen had given him a hard look and dismissed him carefully, not making it seem as though she was flattered by his ichor-filled and inebriated words. “Thank you Daario Naharis, your gift is appreciated. I am very proud of my children and my King treats me with the reverence any Queen should have.” She had grabbed Jon’s thigh for emphasis as she faked pleasantries.

As soon as Daario had walked away, Jon gave her a look that told her the night was over. She announced that the King and Queen would be retiring their children and themselves to bed for the evening, but that guests were welcome to stay and enjoy the night for as long as they wanted.

Daemon had pleaded with his mother, but Jon gave Daemon a look that told him there would be no argument. The couple escorted their children to their rooms. She thought perhaps Jon’s temper would cool as they tucked the prince and princesses into bed, kissing Daemon, Visenya and Lyanna softly on their foreheads. She had been wrong.

Daenerys sighs as she thinks back to the conversation. She understands her husband being upset and she considers her efforts fruitless as he seems especially riled tonight. Her suspicions are confirmed as she turns to see him brooding. He doesn’t brood often now, but when he does, she knows that a disagreement will ensue. She sighs with annoyance, preparing herself for her marital negotiations when a knock at the door interrupts her thoughts. “My Queen,” her handmaidens look from her to the unarmored Jon. “Should we come back Your Grace?”

“No,” Daenerys sighs as she beckons them in. “Please go about your business.” They are here to prepare the room as well as her for sleep. The dress that she has been draped in has many buttons, clasps and ties and she knows that Jon would not have the patience tonight to help her out of the suffocating thing.

Daenerys enters the bedroom adjacent to their solar. She takes a seat in front of her mirrored table and begins to take the jewelry off. She sees Jon’s reflection in the mirror and watches as he takes leave of the chambers and makes his way back out to the hallway, she frowns unsure of where he’s going.

Her husband has never been the jealous type. Men have looked upon her with desire in their gaze before. Most of the time Jon pretends not to notice. He hardly ever gets to the point of paranoia. 

Her handmaiden approaches her and begins to unclasp the back of the dress. Daenerys stands and begins to peel the dress off before she sits back down and lets the handmaiden do the same to her long hair. As it looses around her shoulders she relaxes. She prefers the natural fall of her hair over the ornate braids and fashionable updos that her subjects expect of her.

Daenerys feels like herself once more as she stands in her small clothes, her hair falling in loose curls around her face. She thanks the women as they retreat back down the hall. She retrieves her goblet from the other room, filling it before she goes to the window. She looks out upon King’s Landing, the city below twinkling with lit torches. She can track the guards along the walls of the Keep and breathes deeply, the wine and cool night air affecting her. Looking down makes her light headed and she turns back from the window. 

Her eyes meet Jon’s again and he has that glint. The one that always results in her getting pregnant. She swallows thickly, a warmth settles between her thighs and her belly does a small flip. He strides to her and if she felt lightheaded before it’s nothing compared to the dizziness that results as he bends down and throws her over his shoulder. An unbidden giggle bursts from her as he holds her thighs to his chest, her feet kick, but it’s all for naught. She watches the strong legs and firm ass of her husband as he walks them to their bed. His other hand gropes her ass roughly.

A small shriek escapes her as he throws her onto the soft down mattress playfully. Her eyes hungrily take him in and she bites her lip as she watches him pull his doublet open, revealing his scarred chest. She has never fully grown used to seeing the gashes on his abdomen. His physique is still as perfect as the day they met though and she sighs like a girl at the look of him.

He smirks at her as he rids himself of his pants, his cock stands at attention and she feels another wave of moisture pool between her legs. He grabs her by the ankle and pulls her to the edge of the bed. His hands pull the fabric of her underskirt and he throws it unceremoniously across the room.He grasps the delicate blouse on her chest and rips the fabric as if it were made of parchment. 

She gasps as the cold air greets her overheated skin and she arches her back, a lascivious grin spreads across her face and she runs her toes up the side of her husband’s hip. “My King,” she lets the words hang between them, the tension snaps as he bends his knee. He grasps her thighs and pulls them over his shoulder, “My Queen,” his desire-filled voice is thick and she gasps as his nose brushes against her overheated sex. 

He bites the inside of her leg and she moans like a painted lady would. No matter how foolhardy or infuriating he can be sometimes, no man has ever made her feel the way he does, no man has ever brought her more pleasure, nor made her feel more worshiped. He has shown her what true love is, and for that he overshadows any and all of her past lovers and has ruined her for any other man. She cannot fathom being with anyone else, and prays daily for the Gods to let her keep him until a ripe old age where the last breaths they take would be in one another’s arms and wrapped around each other’s bodies.

His mouth breaks her thoughts and she grips the bed as her back arches. His strong arms hold her hips in place, she knows she’s in for a long night. He has something to prove, not to her, but to himself. She will gladly submit to him tonight if it means that he continues this sweet torture. 

“Ah Jon!” She cries out as his mouth devours her honey. He is truly the wolf tonight and her body begins to tighten in response to his ministrations. He is on a mission and there’s no doubt he knows the geography of her body better than any man in Westeros. In what feels like mere moments the waves of pleasure tip her over the edge, soft moans spilling from her mouth and the sensation of him between her legs is beginning to become too much. 

She reaches down, attempting to pull him up and over her and he does something so unexpected that it sends shocks through her body and down to her toes. He growls, like a beast who’s meal is being threatened. He lifts his chin slightly and says in a deadly tone, “Tonight, you are mine. Yes?”

She nods and swallows thickly, she reaches to stroke his face again but before her fingertips graze his cheek, his hand intercepts. “You will keep your hands away from my hair. If you cannot keep them to yourself, I will bind them to a bedpost. Do you understand?” She nods and the heat between her legs intensifies. His eyes don’t part from hers as his head moves back down. His mouth covers the tight bundle of nerves and she let’s out a shaky breath, accepting the fact that she will most likely become pregnant again after tonight.


	2. Regret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In an act of foolhardy pride, Jon does something he immediately regrets

Daenerys moans and shakes. Her husband is relentlessly devouring the heat between her legs. She has lost track of her climaxes, is that three or four? She does not know.

Normally their couplings are sensual and sweet. He lavishes her body in kisses, whispers words of love in her ear as he brings her to pleasure once or twice before he himself takes his. They make love quite frequently and he’s never this… primal.

Her legs clamp down on his head, hard and her body twists, trying desperately to get away from his mouth but he holds her fast.

His warning from earlier floats in her conscience but she can’t help it. She pushes herself into a sitting position and delves her fingers into his hair, pulling him up and kissing him hard. The taste of her honey on his lips has her head swimming. He growls against her greedy mouth before he guides her back onto the bed.

He reaches for something and before she can react he has her hands pinned above her and is wrapping the shredded blouse around her wrists. She looks up at what he’s doing, momentarily stunned. She didn’t take him at his word, thinking he was just saying it so he could have his way with her for as long as he could.

In an instant he has his hands wrapped under her thighs and is re-positioning them. He uses the longer end of the blouse and ties her wrists to one of the posts at the head of their bed.

“Jon,” she hisses. “I swear to the Gods, if you do not untie me I will scream.”

“Oh I know you’ll scream tonight my Queen. I told the guards to expect as much.” Her eyes narrow and he smirks at her.

“You do not want to wake the dragon.” She threatens him, every word laced with the Targaryen fire he has come to know and love.

“Aye wife,” He kisses down her body, his eyes never leaving hers. “That’s exactly what I want to do.” She gasps as he pushes her thighs apart again, a heavy wave of pleasure floods through her, settling between her hips. He runs his nose up her dripping center. “And your body tells me you’re enjoying it.”

“Jon, please…” She resorts to begging. Something she tries never to do. She hates pleading to any man, her husband being the one exception and even then only for the rarest of occurrences. Jon knows this, it was one of his goals tonight. He has three goals before he will good and truly take her the way she wants him. The first has now been fulfilled, he sets his sights on the next.

She’s unable to push her thighs together and around his head as he’s pinning them open with his strong arms. She moans loudly as his tongue dips into her once again. She’s locked in a battle of wills with her husband and he seems to be winning.

She loses herself in the overwhelming sensations. The coil deep in her belly is resetting itself tightening further and further. With her legs like this she is completely at the mercy of her King and it arouses her, as well as the dragon. The pressure is nearly unbearable as he continues to slowly tighten that knot between her legs.

“Oh JON!” She finally shouts his name. He groans against her and it reverberates through her spine, making her back arch and her head spin. “Please Jon, please I need you inside me. I need you to… to…”

“That’s it Dany, tell me what you want.” He says against her cunt. She bites her lip again. He wants her to say it and she doesn’t want to give in, but she knows it’s the quickest way to get what she wants.

“Gods Jon…” She moans. “I want you to fuck me. I want your cock inside me!” Her fiery gaze meets his as their stare down creates an inferno.

“Tell me true, who else has ever made you feel this way?” He asks her smoothly, lifting himself from her legs.

“Only you.” She gazes at him as she answers. “No other man has ever satiated or filled me as much as you.”

At her admission she sees something move in the reflection of the mirror. It catches his attention too. They both turn their heads to see what it is and catch the form of Daario Naharis walking out of their solar.

Daenerys’ eyes go wide and she looks back at her husband. The smug look on his face betrays him and she knows that it is not a coincidence.

“JAEHAERYS AEGON TARGARYEN!” She shouts his full true borne name and he winces. “What did you do?” She seethes.

Jon shrugs, looking very much like their son when they catch him trying to sneak off to play with Drogon and Rhaegal in the dragonpits without their permission.

“Release me from these binds.” She orders in the voice she reserves only for those that have threatened her.

He huffs as he moves back up her naked form, quickly releasing the knot. Her legs take advantage of his off balance position and she flips him onto his back. She tosses the makeshift binds to the side of the bed and plants herself firmly on his stomach. His hands come to rest on her hips.

“He needed to know what was mine.” He answers nonchalantly. “He needed to know that he has no claim on your body or your heart.” Her eyes search his for a moment before her shoulders fall.

“I should slap you.” She answers defeatedly before removing his hands from her waist. She dismounts him and goes to her silk robe. She covers herself and walks out into the solar. She runs her hands through her hair and sighs in annoyance. She debates whether to summon Daario back and apologize on behalf of her husband. Instead she drains the goblet of wine she had poured for Jon earlier and goes back to the window.

She looks down at the city again and her facade cracks. A tear escapes her eye. She hears the soft pads of his bare feet on the flagstone behind her and moves to wipe away the evidence of her tears.

“Daenerys,” Jon’s voice is calm, soothing and she fights the desire to melt into him. A minute passes as she tries to swallow the lump in her throat, not daring to turn and look at him, she’s still too angry, too hurt.

“You humiliated me.” She says quietly. Her words break the last of his prideful ego and he exhales heavily as he falls to his knees.

His hands grip at her hips and he presses his face into the small of her back. “I’m so sorry.” He says, his voice breaking. “I’m a northern fool who doesn’t deserve your love.”

She closes her eyes and takes a breath before she turns and looks down at him. His face is filled with regret and threatens to spill forth tears. She runs her hand along the side of his face and he presses into it, bringing his palm to rest on hers as his lips softly kiss the silk covering her belly.

“Never do that again.” She warns him.

“Never.” He concedes, dedication lacing his promise. She clasps his face in her hands and guides him back up to his feet. She pulls his mouth to hers and kisses him softly. He gasps against her lips as they slowly pour their love into one another.

Soon he lifts her again, this time wrapping her legs around his waist, their lips never leaving one another’s. He carries her back to their bed and sits, letting her knees hit the mattress. He scoots them back to the middle of the bed and lets her take complete control. She snakes her hand down between them, pumping his stiff manhood in her palm.

When he’s breathing heavily, she releases his cock and pushes him back to lie down. Her hands quickly undo the knot on the robe and she lets it fall away. Her eyes rake over his chest and she dips to kiss along the jagged wound over his heart.

He keeps his hands on her hips as he groans, pushing his head against the mattress. She kisses back up to his ear as she lifts herself, placing her entrance above him.

“You’ll apologize by putting another baby in me.” She whispers as she sinks down onto him. He groans, closes his eyes and nods as the tight walls of her passage relax around him. “I want another boy this time.” A shiver goes up his spine and he fights the urge to buck up into her. “ You better get to work Jon Snow.” Her cool voice overloads his senses and this time he does buck his hips, setting a slow rhythm that makes her body tingle.

She sighs as she looks upon her husband, rolling her hips in sync with his thrusts. “Look at me.” She commands. His eyes meet hers and he groans as he releases into her. She bites her lip at the sensation of his seed filling her.

It takes a moment for him to recover, but in one quick movement he has them flipped over. “I think we need to make doubly sure I get you with child tonight my Queen.” He whispers kissing her deeply. She trembles before relaxing her legs, pulling him further into her as she stretches to capture his lips in hers.

A groan resonates through his chest, the reverberations traveling through her body and right to her dripping core. She sighs as she settles into his embrace.

"I could spend the rest of my life right here between your legs." He caresses her thigh as his words fan a fire of emotion in her.

"Mmm, Jon?" She looks up at him with heavy lidded eyes.

"Yes my Queen?" He kisses her collar bone as he begins to shift his hips slowly.

"Tomorrow you will seek out Daario and you will apologize." He closes his eyes and drops his head to her chest, not breaking the rhythm of his slow thrusting.

"Aye," He answers. 

"And when you do so," She continues. "You will tell him that while you should not have subjected him to that display of ego, that everything he heard is true." Her eyes sparkle with mischief. "You will tell him that while he may have courted a dragon, that you were the one who tamed her. That while she is no slave, her heart beats only for you and your cock is the only one she's had her lips on." Jon's eyes darken and his thrusts pick-up force and speed.

"Wife, you will be the end of me." He groans against her lips before pushing his body vertically pulling her hips up to keep an angle with his, her shoulders and head the only part of her body touching the mattress. His forearms support her shapely thighs and ass, his hands gripping her lower back and waist as he begins to drive into her, hitting an angle that makes her moan wantonly. Her hands find purchase on her own breasts and his breath quickens at the sight of her losing herself in the sensations. 

He ruts into her hard and fast and she feels the delicious tension settle low in her belly. She knows her pleasure will take her fast at this angle and she opens her eyes to look up at him. He's staring at her hungrily. "I meant what I said earlier," His low voice purrs. "I will have you screaming tonight."

Her unanticipated moan catches even her off guard and to stifle it she bites her lip. Her breaths quicken as she can feel herself dangling on the precipice of release. 

"Not yet" His simple command causes her to moan a shiver passing through her body as he disengages his cock from her slick folds. 

Her head spins as he flips her onto her stomach. He pushes her legs together, her thighs sticky with the evidence of their exertions. He lifts her hips, his teeth graze the supple curve of her ass and she gasps loudly. Her tits and face are planted in the soft furs of the bed. He brings the tip of his cock to the very give of her entrance, finding where she needs him most.

It had taken her sometime to let Jon fuck her in this manner. It had reminded her too much of the way her former Khal had mounted her, the painful memories of their forceful unions had been a mental block that had taken Jon years to deconstruct. Her Northern King however had finally shown her the truth of the position when she was heavily pregnant; Her belly was a hindrance to their love making at first, until he showed her that from this approach it still allowed him to reach the most pleasurable spots within her.

Now she gladly accepted her wolf to love her in this manner. He slips into her again, falling forward at the overwhelmingly tight fit. He steadies his breathing, his hot gasps tickling her back. As soon as he gathers his wits he begins to move, his lips leaving soft kisses on her back, causing her to shiver in response and her hips begin to push back instinctively. They both know this won't last long at this rate, but he is determined to have her screaming tonight and with every ounce of strength he can muster he pushes himself back up. He lets his hips drop just slightly before he both pushes into her and snaps her hips back with his strong hands.

She cries out, loudly, a grin taking his face. He knows he will have her screaming with this method if he can prevent himself from spilling his seed too quickly. He repeats his movement, another cry escapes her, but this time she seems to steel herself for the sensation and she cuts herself off by burying her face in the furs.

His hand reaches forward and tangles in her moon kissed locks, softly tugging. "I want to hear you scream my name." He snarls. She nods realizing that he needs this from her just as much as she needs him to continue his actions. "Good." He releases her hair and lets his hand wrap beneath her flat belly, searching out her slick pearl. His fingers begin to circle the bud as he continues the snap of his hips.

She cries out with each hard thrust, the sweat of their bodies mingle with the slick fluids of their lovemaking and it helps to further lubricate his rough actions. He can feel a coil tightening in his body and knows that he needs to finish her soon. He makes a calculated risk to speed his hips, the soft slap of his thighs hitting her ass and it heightens her pleasure to a new level. "Jon, yes, oh Jon please don't stop!" Her cries become more wild and she becomes consumed by everything he's doing to her body. From the grip of his hand on her hip, forcing her body backwards onto his cock, to the tight circles of his fingers and the slapping of his hips against her ass; she can't stand it anymore. She lets herself fly apart at the seams. "JON! JON YES JON! GODS! YES YES YES I'M. YOURS. ONLY. YOURS!" Her screams are punctuated by the rough passions of their bodies

The feel of her muscles contracting around him and the sound of her screaming his name send him spiraling out of control. His thrusts become erratic as he too begins to swear loudly. "FUCK DANY! YES! MINE!" He shouts as he spills himself in her with a long groan.

As his pleasure drains from his body he pulls out causing them both to hiss at the separation. She keeps her hips up, letting his seed stay pooled in her. He flops down on his side, looking at her with complete adoration. His hand softly runs along her sweat beaded forehead, pushing her matted hair back out of her face so he can see the devotion in her eyes. She smiles at him lovingly before she whispers. "What do you think of naming this son Eddard?"

He freezes, a lump forming in his throat. He stares at her speechless and she can tell by the look on his face that he likes the name. He likes it very much. He stretches his neck and kisses her cheek, her brow, her nose and finally her lips. "You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I promise to love you... in perpetuity."

She smiles at the memory of their first meeting, when they were nothing but fated strangers.


	3. Whispers at Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Early morning stirrings of a Queen and her King.

****Daenerys stirs softly just before dawn, the soft blue light hardly illuminating her naked form. She reaches out for her husband only to find a cold bed. She hears him chuckle softly though and cracks her eyes open. He is standing at the window, his cloth pants low on his hips.

"You slept well I take it?' He asks as he crosses to the bed.

She hums contently and nods as she watches him approach. He climbs across the sheets to her and presses his lips to her forehead. She smiles and reaches her hand up to brush the scruff of his beard, stretching to fight the stiffness in her body at their feverish love making the night before.

Jon's body settles next to hers and he pulls her onto his chest, her fingers tracing the scars that she's come to memorize.

"What time is it?" She asks softly.

"Early enough for the rooster to still be sleeping." He whispers as his hands mindlessly stroke her soft silver hair.

"What woke you?" Daenerys looks up at him.

"The nightmare." He sighs closing his eyes trying to forget the horrible images.

"The same one?" She asks searching his face and he nods, his jaw clenches and his body tenses.

Jon has been having this recurring nightmare for the last ten years. His greatest fear haunting him even as he has worked to make sure it never happens. The image of his wife's broken body, her lifeless amethyst eyes staring at nothing, her beautiful braids cut and discarded in the pool of blood that surrounded her body.

It terrified him and he would wake with tears streaming down his cheeks, heart racing and a scream stuck in his throat. Those mornings he would stare upon Daenerys' sleeping form for what felt like hours, watching her chest rise and fall as she breathed, studying her form, memorizing every curve, freckle and scar until he was convinced it was a dream.

Dany sees he's struggling, that he needs to feel her warm and moving against him. She climbs up onto his lap, wrapping her hands around his neck and kisses him, pressing as much of her naked chest to his. He responds immediately, his arms locking around her waist, hands digging at the flesh where her back curves to her rear. Their kisses are long and deep, just enjoying the nearness, driving away all bad thoughts until it's just the two of them.

She feels his hardened desire pressed to her thigh and shifts her hips just slightly. His fingers squeeze and he groans softly.

"I'm right here." She breaks from his lips as she kisses his ear and down to his throat. "I'm not going anywhere Jon, and you're not going to lose me." He gasps as the emotion he was trying to tamp down is released and he turns his head, hungrily kissing her as he did that first night they made love on the ship to White Harbor.

His hands roam over her body, caressing her every curve and peak. She takes a gasping air of breath but his lips stay attached to her, licking and nipping down the column of her throat to the full breasts that nourished his children. He ravishes them with attention. Her hands are ploughing through his hair and she's moving her hips softly.

His endless kisses are beginning to stir the heat between her legs and she grabs him roughly by the hair pulling his head back and summoning a hiss from his mouth. "No man or woman in the world will take me from you or you from me. I will burn anybody alive who tries to separate us." A promise scorched behind her eyes and he gazes at her in wondrous desire and eternal devotion.

With that she shifts her hips towards his knees and begins kissing his chest, tracing the angry marks, worshipping the evidence that he could have been ripped from this world before they even began. His eyes stay locked to her, his hands cupping the back of her head as she continues downward.

She drags her nose along the line of hair leading from his navel to his groin before looking up at him. Her hand caresses his hard shaft through the thin material before tugging softly at the waist of his pants, slowly inching down to finally release his swollen cock.

Dany peeks back up at him to see that his eyes are locked to her and his breathing has picked up. She smiles before enclosing his length in her palm. His stomach clenches slightly as her hand slowly begins to pump up and down.

When she bends down to softly lick the moistened tip he gasps and clenches his fists in the sheets. She smiles and lets her mouth wrap around him further, sucking as her hand moves down, alternating in an all consuming way.

"Aaaahhh... fuck," he groans as he brings his hand to her hair, burying it in her soft locks. She hums around him and his head lolls back as he groans her name "Daaa-nnnyyyy..." A shiver runs down her spine and pools fire in her belly. It motivates her to increase the fervor of her mouth and tongue.

Jon's hips buck and he begins to quake under her ministrations. Jon is the only man she has pleasured this way and she loves having him come undone beneath her touch. The power she feels performing this act on him is intoxicating and she understands why he likes to bury his face between her thighs so often.

He continues to groan and his hips move more urgently until the point where he's gasping. "Dany... please... I'm going to..." She nods and quickens her efforts, wanting to finish him. Jon however grits his teeth and fights his instincts, "Dany... I need to be inside you...ah... baby remember?" He groans and slams his head against the headboard.

She begrudgingly releases him from the warm chasm of her mouth with a soft 'pop' and looks up at him, slightly disappointed but impressed that he managed to contain himself. He immediately relaxes and works to calm his breath.

Jon grins cheekily at his vixen of a wife. "When you're already with child, I'll let you have me any way you please." She smiles and goes to kiss him, but he grabs her ankle and flips her onto her back, spreading her legs he quickly sheathes himself within her. The cry that pierces the early morning stillness due to the sudden invasion by her Northerner is muffled as his lips crash down upon hers. 

Jon bites at her kiss swollen mouth as her silken walls relax around his stiff cock. He breathes heavily knowing that he’s going to have a very short window until he succumbs to the pleasure of being between her legs again. As her body adjusts to the new position her hands bury into his hair and she pushes her hips up.

“Seven hells,” She sighs. “Jon, you are truly exhibiting quite the apology for last night.” 

“Anything for the love of my Queen.” He jokes back as he once again begins to playfully nip at her throat, collar bone and breasts, his hips moving slowly but firmly against hers. “I want your breasts to grow heavy with milk once more. I want  your belly to swell at the presence of our child. I want your happiness above all else, and if you are happiest with our son in your bellly, well then Gods I will try with every ounce of my strength to make that happen.”

He drags himself out slowly only to push hard and fast once more. She moans loudly and bites his lip in return. Her hands glide up his back, tensing and relaxing with each thrust of his hips. 

Their bodies move together as only they know how. Their love making perfected over a decade of trial and error. He knows that when he lifts her leg just as he does now, she will snap her eyes closed. She knows that when she digs her hand into his ass he will growl softly and pump just a little harder. Jon knows that once her breathing becomes erratic and her kisses become less intense that he’s gotten her close. His body is on the precipice and he knows he needs to push her over the edge.

“I love you Daenerys Stormborn.” He whispers in her ear before he bites at the soft lobe. It’s all she needs and she moans against his shoulder as her toes curl and hips buck into him. His sudden gasping and quick pumps tell her he’s reached his climax as well and it lengthens the waves of pleasure that travel through her body. He spills himself into her, rolling his hips as both of them come down from the indescribable bliss. 

A few moments of calming breaths and languid kisses pass before he pulls himself from her depths, both of them groaning from the separation. He pulls the furs back up and over them, both succumbing to sleep once more, their bodies laced together.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Across the city, in a brothel in Flea Bottom, a sellsword sits in a window staring up at the Red Keep before he glances back to the silver haired imposter sprawled naked and asleep on the bed. This woman is no Queen, but it’s the closest thing he could find in a short amount of time. He walks over to her, pumping his hands over his length to work himself up. 

“You will be mine again,” He whispers into the ear of the fraudulent whore as he positions her. She rouses slightly, a smirk spreading across her face before it’s replaced with a moan as he slides into the fit of a well ridden woman. It’s nothing compared to a Khaleesi, but it’s all he has right now. 

Just for right now.


	4. Morning Lessons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eventually the King and Queen have to leave their bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before I start, THANK YOU! To all the readers and commenters. I have just broken the tip of the iceberg on this baby. I don't know how long it will be, I imagine at least 5 more chapters, could be more. But you're kind words have totally urge me to continue faster.

A light knock at the entrance to their bedchamber rouses Daenerys. She looks up to see Missandei peeking through the door.

“Apologies, Your Grace,” She whispers. Her children’s giggling greets the Queen’s ears and she sits up, “The children are asking for you.” Daenerys pulls the furs up with her before looking down at the still sleeping form of her husband, his face is so peaceful that she dare not wake him.

Dany holds up a finger to her lips and nods. Her friend bows and closes the door quietly. The Queen slips from the warmth of her bed, crossing to her bureau. She pours some water into the basin and wets a rag to wash the residue of sweat from her body. A small smile meets her lips as she recalls the ravenous way her husband made love to her the night prior.

She softly wipes the mixed fluids of their attempt to make another child from her thighs before she places the rag with the other dirty clothing for her handmaidens to dispose of. She straightens and looks down, placing a hand on her belly, silently sending a prayer to the Gods to give her and Jon another morning giggle.

As she opens her eyes she feels a strong pair of hands wrap around her waist and his mouth bites her earlobe.

“Who says we’re done?” He murmurs huskily against her neck.

“You, dear husband,” She whispers as she turns her head to look at him. “Are an animal.”

“Aye,” He slips his hand to the folds of her sex and rubs small circles. “But you married me anyway.”

She giggles and places her hands over his, halting the attempts to get her to fall back into bed with him.

“You are not the only one who requires my attention.” She turns in his arms and runs her hands along his cheek. “A Queen has many admirers.”

Jon growls at the thought of their previous night’s cause for passion and dedication. His hands greedily pull her soft bottom to squeeze her against his growing desire. “I suggest you not bring that up any further.”

Daenerys tenderly reaches back to pull his hands from her body. “I was referring to our children.”

Jon rests his forehead against hers, a sigh of exasperation and acceptance as he lets his arduous affections for his wife cool. “I suppose I will allow them to steal you… for now,” His voice drops and he kisses her, an unsaid promise on his lips.

She shakes her head and steps away from her husband before yanking open a drawer in her bureau and pulling out a silver and blue silken night dress. Jon grabs a fresh rag and begins to wash himself as well, hardly taking his eyes from his Queen.

“I was considering returning to Winterfell for a quick diplomatic visit.” He says as he adjusts the cloth pants to rest low on his waist again.

“Is everything alright?” Dany asks looking at Jon in the reflection of her mirror as she reaches for her brush.

“Aye,” Jon answers as he comes to stand behind her. He wraps his hand around the one she’s gripping the brush with, a silent request that she acquiesces to.

Jon had first started brushing his wife’s hair after the birth of Visenya. It was a hard birth as the obstinate child refused to turn during labor, deciding to come feet first instead of head first. Daenerys labored for nearly a day and a half, hair matted to her face. Jon refused to leave her side for any of their children’s births, but especially Visenya’s. He kept wet rags pressed to Dany’s forehead and neck. 

At one point she was sitting in a cool bath, trying to relax. Jon had seen her fighting with her silver-gold mane and decided to pick up her brush and a couple of pins. He slid into the tub behind her and began brushing her hair, attempting to tame the wild locks. He managed to make a terrible albeit functional enough braid. He doesn’t brush her hair often and she refuses to let him braid it anymore, but every once in a while, a wave of nostalgia, or boredom will wash over him and he will do as he is doing now. Slowly pulling the brush through his wife’s hair as she watches him in the mirror.

“Sansa is having some trouble with the Wildlings. Nothing worrisome, just the stubbornness of freefolk.”

“Did she ask for your presence?” Daenerys queries as she quickly forms two identical braids on either side of her face.

Jon sighs as he sets the brush down. “No, but she wouldn’t have written to me if she didn’t want my counsel. Besides, she’s heavy with child and her husband is away.”

Dany nods as she pins the braids up to the back of her head.

“Alright then. You’ll take Rhaegal and be back in time for the tourney next week.” Daenerys stands and places her hands on her husband’s chest. “It bolsters support and loyalty when Lords fight in front of their King.”

Jon didn’t like tournaments, but he understood why others did. He sighs and nods in agreeance. Just then there’s small hurried knocks on the door and they both turn to beam. Jon walks to the door, flinging it open wide before scooping one little girl in either arm and lifting them each easily. They squeal in delight, kicking and flailing as he begins peppering their faces in kisses. “What are my darling little dragon princesses doing waking their parents so early?” He asks them as their giggling dies down.

Daenerys’ heart melts whenever she watches Jon with their children. To imagine she’d thought this might never have been possible because of her misplaced trust in a scorned witch’s words makes her realize how naive she had been. Daenerys knows that no matter what enemies they face or what monsters there are in the dark places of this world, her and Jon would fight to the death to make it safer for their precious children.

“We missed you papa,” Visenya says as she plays with his face.

“And mama!” Lyanna adds quickly as she bends around their father's shoulder, pointing her small arm at Dany. Jon turns and walks toward Daenerys as they both reach for their mother. Their little hands wrap around her neck to hug her, Lyanna wiggles from her father’s grasp and into her mother’s arms.

“You missed us?” She coos as Lyanna rests her raven-haired head on Dany’s shoulder. “But we were here the entire night.”

“But you weren’t with us!” Visenya argues, her face morphs into Jon’s thoughtful brood, her hair the only color difference from her father’s.

“That is true…” Jon sighs as he turns to head back into the main room, Dany following close behind.

Daemon is sitting at their table, a large book propped open on his lap, a plate of food sitting before him. “Good morning mother, good morning father.” He says, not looking up, his dark curls hanging in front of his eyes as they walk into the room.

“What have I told you about reading at the table?” Jon eyes his son intensely.

“That I’m only allowed to if it’s a good book.” Daemon answers looking up at the King.

“And what book is filling your mind this morning?” Jon pushes as he sets five year old Visenya down in a chair before seating himself next to her.

“A history of dragons and their riders. Maester Tarly gave it to me for my name day.” Daemon answers.

“Oh, well in that case, skip to the end and read it aloud.” Jon smirks up at Daenerys, she narrows her eyes as she sets their four year old in her chair.

Daemon smiles and does as his father requests. Daenerys and Jon begin serving plates of food to their daughters as they listen to their son read aloud. “For many centuries, dragons were considered extinct. The few remaining eggs thought to be inert and although more valuable than any jewel, ultimately useless. Until Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen-”

A gasp from Visenya interrupts her brothers recitation as she looks up to her mother, eyes wide. “That’s you mama!” She says with wonder as her eyes dart from Dany’s to Daemon’s and then back.

“it is!” Dany feigns shock. “Shall we see what it says?” Visenya nods eagerly and stares back at her brother with renewed interest.

Daemon returns his eyes to his book and begins to read aloud once more. “Until Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen managed to birth three dragons out of the funeral pyre of her dead Dothraki husband, making her the Mother of Dragons as well as The Unburnt.” Daemon’s eyes furrow and he looks up at his parents. “You had a husband before father?” He asks thoughtfully.

Dany nods as she chews a piece of honeyed ham. “He was an undefeated Khal with one of the largest Khalasar’s in the Great Grass Sea. I was sold in marriage to him for the promise of an army.” She answers her son truthfully.

“And he died?” Daemon asks, “How?”

“A wound on his chest festered and I being only a young girl and not understanding the consequences of my actions, asked a witch to perform blood magic to save him. It did not work and he died anyway.” She looks at Jon, who knows the unsaid details and he reaches his hand for hers, knowing that although time has healed the pain, the scar of Drogo and Rhaego still aches. “I had a death pyre built for him and I placed the dragon eggs on the pyre. ‘Only death can pay for life’ the witch had told me. So I walked into the flames and carried my dragons from the ashes.”

Daemon’s eyes flit to Jon’s chest and then back to his book before meeting his mother’s gaze. “What brought back father?” Daemon’s curiosity burrows into Dany and she looks up at Jon, not knowing how to respond.

“Love did.“ Jon whispers as he softly squeezes Daenerys’ hand. A tender gaze passes between them before it is broken by their son.

“Ick.“ Daemon shudders and his parents both laugh softly, causing the small girls to giggle along playfully, not fully understanding what it is that is funny.

“I’d like to hear more from this book.” Jon says as he releases Dany’s hand and takes a drink from his goblet. He nods to Daemon to begin again. The Prince casts his eyes back down to the pages and begins reading again.

“Daenerys Stormborn birthed three dragons that day. The first and largest of the three was named for her dead husband Drogon. The second and fastest was named for her eldest brother Rhaegal. The third and smallest of the three was named for her youngest brother Viserion.“ Daemon furrows his brow looking so much like Jon that Dany would have laughed if she hadn’t just been reminded of a sadness that she kept locked away.

“The early years of the Exiled Queen can be tracked by the presence of these dragons. When they were small, people would look upon them and smile, or covet the small beasts. They were loyal only to their mother though and would snap at anyone who dared try and touch them without her approval.”

Jon laughs out loud, interrupting the reading. “They still do that! I swear if your mother is ever cross with me, I refuse to get near Drogon! Even Rhaegal can be touchy if she is upset!”

"They would never kill you," Daenerys rebuts sarcastically. Missandei enters the room again, a servant with a tray of hot tea trails in behind her, crossing to place it in front of the Queen. "Is that my normal tea?" Daenerys asks Missandei who nods. "Oh, could I request a lemon tea instead? I won't be requiring this tea for a while."

Missandei's knowing smirk is glimpsed only by Dany who smiles a secret way that only her friend could understand. "As your Grace commands." Missandei bows and leads the other woman away with the tray of moon tea.

“Continue darling,” Daenerys turns back to Daemon and nods at him. He looks up at his mother and returns to his book.

“The Mother of Dragons led her people and her children to the city of Qarth. There is much mystery of her time there. She was made an offer of marriage by Xaro Xhoan Daxos, a rich noble man and one of the Thirteen Rulers of the merchant city. She refused him and after finding out that he was plotting against her, Xaro was never heard from again.” Daemon looks up at her. “Did you kill him?”

Dany looks down to her two daughters, pondering if perhaps it may be best for them not to hear it. But then again, they have to know what must be done. “I did.” She nods.

“How?” Daemon’s eyes light up.

She sighs and sets her fork down on her plate before Jon interjects, “Someday soon Daemon, your mother and I will sit you down and tell you our stories, from our births to yours. But until then, this is not a topic for discussion in front of your little sisters.”

“But papa!” Visenya argues, “I want to know too!”

“Me too! Me too!” Lyanna whines.

“And you will,” Daenerys answers. “But not until you are older as well.”

“Alright,” Daemon huffs as he turns the page in his book and continues readiing. “The Dragon Queen left Quarth on a ship bound for the slave city of Astapor. Her three dragon children had grown to be the size of dogs and were still unable to truly defend themselves or their mother. While in Astapor, Daenerys encountered the Unsullied, an army of slave boys made eunuch soldiers.”

“What’s a eunuch?” Lyanna asks quietly as she picks at a piece of sweet bread on her plate. Dany coughs trying to clear her throat before looking to Jon.

“Hmm, uh, well sweetie...” Jon looks back at Daenerys, not knowing how to explain it to a four year old.

“They are men that cannot have children.” Missandei interjects from near the door. Jon turns to look at Missandei as Dany relaxes in her seat. Her friend has always been good with words and her children. That is why she has become their tudor.

“Why can’t they?” Lyanna prods.

“Because other men made it so they could not.” Missandei answers as she stands behind Visenya, looking across the table to the curious princess.

“Why would they do that? Lyanna continues her line of questions.

“Because men can be cruel, and that is why your mother and father work to make sure the cruel men do not take power again. They make sure the cruel men are punished.”

Lyanna looks up at her parents with a soft smile and back to Missandei. “Thank you Miss.” 

“You’re welcome Lyanna.” Missandei steps back once more and nods at Daemon to continue.

“Daenerys Stormborn made a deal to trade her largest dragon for the entire Unsullied Army. Upon completion of the transaction, Drogon burned Kraznys mo Nakloz, the Leader of the Unsullied, alive while The Queen set the Army on the Masters and had them strike the chains from every slave. After the city was sacked, she offered the Unsullied their freedom, every soldier refused, choosing to follow the Breaker of Chains.” Daemon pauses and looks once more at his mother.

“Why did you betray your word to Kraznys?” He asks.

Daenerys ponders for a moment. “He was a cruel man who did unspeakable things to little boys in order to make them into hard men. He thought he could turn a dragon into a slave.”

“Zaldrīzes buzdari iksos daor.” Daemon responds, nodding his head in understanding before studying the tome in his lap once more. “As she left the city of Astapor, The Exiled Queen moved onto Yunkhai. She offered the Masters of Yunkhai a deal, which they refused. They threatened her with use of a sellsword company named The Second Sons. The Targaryen Queen met with the mercenary group and offered them a deal, all except one refused her, Daario Naharis.” Jon and Dany both tense at the mention of the man. “He’s the one who gifted me the sword last night!” Daemon connects the name quickly. 

“Aye,” Jon answers as he takes a large bite of roasted potato so as to attempt to prevent himself from speaking further. He needs not wait long as his son continues back into the history quickly.

“With the offered support from Daario and The Second Sons, Queen Daenerys sent a small party to infiltrate the city at night. There were very few of the Queen’s forces that were lost and the city was turned over to her, whereupon she continued to offer freedom to the slaves, most choosing to follow her.”

“Wow mama,” Visenya looks up from her plate. “You saved a lot of people.”

Dany eyes the beautiful face of her child and smiles sadly. “I tried.”

“Upon reaching Meereen, Drogon, Rhaegal and Viserion had grown to the size of small horses and had begun to become more unruly and wild. At the Gates of Meereen, the Queen was asked to choose a champion to fight for the right to an audience with the Slave Masters. The new ally Daario Naharis stepped up and fought a rider, dispatching him quickly. The Mother of Dragons flung the broken manacles of the slaves she had freed over the walls of the last remaining slave city, announcing to the chained citizens that she was here to save them. The revolt that resulted was quick and the gates opened to her. She punished the masters and took the city for her own.”

“Miss?” Daemon looks up at Missandei curiously. “Did you witness all of this?”

“I did Prince Daemon.” Missandei nods.

“Did it happen exactly as it says here?”

“It did,” She nods again. “There are some details the book missed, I will discuss them with you further in your studies if you are interested.”

Daemon looks back to the Queen. “No, it’s alright. Mother and Father will tell me when they think I am ready, won’t you?”

Jon looks his son in the eye. “You will know what war truly means when the time comes for your mother and I tell you our story.” Jon’s honest face does not break from his son’s until Daemon nods in understanding. “Now continue, I believe I finally  _show up_  in this book soon.” He smirks cheekily at Daenerys and takes another bite of food.

“In taking Meereen, the Targaryen Queen angered a group of rebels called ‘The Harpies’. As the Harpies made it difficult to rule, leading raids on soldiers and killing freed slaves, the dragon children had become unpredictable. Their hunger driving them to scorch flocks of sheep along with their herders. As a result the Queen attempted to chain her children in the Great Pyramid and keep them and the city safe. Drogon escaped and was not seen again for some time. It was during her reign over Meereen that Tyrion of House Lannister showed up, offering an alliance with the New Queen, she accepted. However the Queen’s loyalty rested with the people she saved. She attempted to make a marital alliance with one of the great slave Masters of Meereen, Hizdar zo Loraq, only to have a rebel Harpy attack occur at the reopening of the fighting pits. Hizdar was killed It was then that Drogon reappeared, The Dragon Queen became the first Dragon Rider in over a century as  Drogon whisked the Queen away from the dangerous city.”

“Good Drogon,” Lyanna whispers more to herself than aloud, but it’s enough to make everyone in the room chuckle.

“The Queen’s loyal men Jorah Mormont and Daario Naharis set off in search of any sign for their Lost Queen or Drogon. It was discovered that the Queen had been taken captive by a Great Khalasar and was brought to the city of Vaes Dothrak. There The Queen was set before the Council of Khals and told she would spend the rest of her days with the other widows in the Temple of Dosh Khaleen. She refused, instead burning the Temple to the ground along with the Khals. Walking out of the flames, she rallied the rest of the Dothraki to her and began her march back to Meereen. Upon reaching the city, she found it was under siege, the other masters of Yunkhai and Astapor rising up to defy her and attempting to take the city with their fleet of ships. The Young Queen’s dragons, now able to be ridden and large enough to be used as weapons, proved that The Queen was able to defend her city with them, burning a ship in mere moments as an example of their power. She took the fleet and used it to ferry her forces back to Westeros.”

“That’s where you met papa right?!” Visenya asks. Her affection for her father is unmatched, except perhaps by The Queen.

“That is where your father and I met, yes.” Dany answers her.

“Shhh,” Lyanna puts her finger over her mouth and furrows her brow at Lyanna. “Let Daemon finish Vissy.”

Daemon continues. “Her dragons continued to grow until they were larger than ten horses, Drogon being the most fierce-some came to be called “Dreaded Shadow”. Queen Daenerys prefered to ride Drogon and led him into a skirmish with Lannister forces that were retreating from High Garden. When the King in The North, Jon Snow-” 

“PAPA!” Visenya shouts at the top of her lungs causing Jon to lean over and kiss her on the forehead, shushing her outburst.

Daemon eyes his sister seriously before picking back up where he left off. “When the King in the North, Jon Snow presented himself to the Queen he pleaded with her to turn her armies north and to march against the Night King and his Army of the Dead. The Targaryen Queen refused at first, until King Jon went north of the wall to capture one of The Others, in order to prove to her and to Cersei Lannister that what he was claiming was true. When the White Wolf and his few remaining allies were surrounded, Queen Daenerys flew her dragons north, using them to extract the King and his men. In the process Viserion was pierced by an ice lance and was struck from the sky.”

A sadness washes through Daenerys. She had been trying to steel herself for it, but it did not matter, Viserion’s death was a struggle for her to cope with even now. A tear slips from her eye and Daemon stops, looking up at his mother. Jon reaches for Daenerys’ hand, squeezing lightly. He had apologized profusely and while Viserion’s death did not end up being in vain, he knew that was her biggest sorrow. Lyanna, understanding her mother was sad, climbs into her lap, wrapping her arms around her mother’s shoulders and burying her face in Dany’s neck. A sad smile crosses the Queen’s face and she hugs her youngest daughter closest to her for a moment.

“You saved Papa...” Lyanna’s realization breaks the silence.

“She did.” Jon answers. “She risked her dragons to save a Northern Fool.”

“I risked my dragons to save the man I love.” Daenerys corrects him as she disentangles Lyanna’s arms and sets her on her lap facing the table. Jon pushes himself up and over the table, kissing her chastely on the lips once before sitting back down.

“Aye,” He answers, “It may have been the first time, but it wasn’t the last.”

“Can I continue?” Daemon huffs at his parents affection.

“Yes, you may continue.” Jon looks at his son with a fond annoyance.

“Thank you,” Daemon looks back down. “Before the Battle for the Dawn took place, The Dragon Queen and the King in The North proceeded to solidify their alliance with marriage. It was shortly after that Rhaegal, the Verdant Flame, accepted King Jon as his rider. Together the King and Queen rode their dragons against the Night King, who had turned the body of Viserion into an undead mount of his own. The Dragons fought in the air, the King managed to blind the undead monstrosity with his sword Longclaw and Drogon landed a crippling blow to the reawakened corpse of his brother, preventing the great beast from flying and sending the Night King to the ground. As the blue-eyed dragon cried out in agony, Queen Daenerys landed Drogon on top of him, pinning Viserion to the ground. Rhaegal and his Rider fought off the undead that attempted to surround the three. The Mother of Dragons approached her child, his brother’s jaws clamped onto his throat. She pulled a dragonglass dagger and thrust it through the skull of the great beast that had once been hers, releasing him from his servitude to the Night King.”

Daenerys’ face is filled with a boiling rage. Her eyes alight at the memory of the Night King and the way he had used the animated corpse of her son to kill her soldiers. She knew that Viserion was not in there, that she had left him at the bottom of the frozen lake in the North. The Night King had raised Viserion’s body, used it to destroy the wall and tried to use it to destroy her as well. 

“Zaldrīzes buzdari iksos daor.” Jon echoes her thoughts as he looks upon her. A long silence takes the room, the children looking upon their parents in awe as the Monarchs let their anger fizzle out. They had won. They had vanquished the Night King. It was at a great cost, but they had done it.

Daemon closes the book and lets it drop loudly on the table, causing the plates and silverware to clatter against one another. It breaks the tense silence and startles the two girls.

“Can we go down to see Drogon and Rhaegal today?” Daemon asks as he begins eating his meal.

Daenerys nods. “Aye” Jon answers. “I leave for a short trip to Winterfell today, I planned on taking Rhaegal. You may accompany your mother to see me off.”

Daemon smiles around a mouthful of food as the family gets back to finishing their morning meal.


	5. Verdant Flame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon takes leave of King's Landing and on the way meets with two men, one friendly, the other... not so much.

Jon pours over a report from Winterfell in the small council chambers. Winter is ending. The Wildlings grow restless. With the Night King gone and the land north of the wall restored to relative safety, they are requesting to go back to their true homes. They have started becoming unruly, refusing access to Northern patrols on their land and ignoring summons from Winterfell. They have never accepted Sansa as their governing Lady, only their King in the North has been able to get through to them.

Jon sighs heavily as he sets the report down. He rubs his eyes trying to wake himself up. He slept very little last night, but he couldn’t say it wasn’t his fault. He thinks about how his wife moaned, how she felt wrapped around him, her body giving just as much as pulling. It was enough to get him aroused again.

Daenerys had always been able to make his blood run hot without so much as a look. He had desired her before he loved her, but once his heart saw her for her true beauty, there was no way the Gods could have kept her from him. He was a moth to her embodiment of flame. When they made love the first time all those years ago, he knew she was what was missing from his life, knew that she was what had been waiting for him on the other side of all the shit he’d seen, all the men he’d killed, all the battles he’d fought, all the times he had almost died and the one he did. She was his home, his purpose, his soulmate. Jon knew that if he had to go back and do it all again, knowing everything he knows now, he wouldn’t change a thing, because it brought him to her.

Jon stands and walks to the side table to pour himself a glass of wine, drinking it in one gulp. He needs to leave for Winterfell soon, it’s a whole night’s flight by Rhaegal. But first, he needs to try and right his wrong. Well, he wasn’t wrong, but he was stupid. Daario was a cretin, he had no respect for Jon, nor for Daenerys. His lascivious gazes and lewd comments to her proved as much. A knock on the door breaks Jon’s thoughts and he looks up to see Grey Worm, his second in command over the Queen’s army.

“He has been found my King. He waits for you in the Throne Room.”

“Thank you Grey Worm,” Jon nods as he places the cup down, straightens his spine and walks out to see this mercenary Lord.

Daario stands in the middle of the room, staring up at the imposing skulls of what was once thought to be the last dragons, the Targaryen banners hanging from the great maws. The hairs on the back of Jon’s neck bristle at the sight of the man, but he pushes back his obvious disdain.

“Daario Naharis,” Jon says his name as he nears the bearded Essosi. “Thank you for answering my summons.”

Daario turns and bows before answering. “Only a fool dismisses the summons of a King in his city. What is it you need from me? Your Grace…” He tacks on the formality at the end.

“I did not summon you here to request anything of you. I simply wanted to apologize for my behavior last night. It was uncalled for and I regret what happened.” Jon reaches out his hand in a show of good faith. Daario eyes him for a moment before he reaches out, clasps the King’s arm and pulls him closer lowering his voice.

“We both know Queen Daenerys put you up to this. I accept your apology, but let’s not pretend you regret it. You got what you wanted after all.” Daario steps back and looks Jon in the eye once more.

“You are right,” Jon answers. “I did get what I wanted. I won her heart. I won her love. It must be difficult for you to see. Trust me when i say that she never loved you. You may have known a young, broken girl with a dream of home and a willingness to lose herself between the sheets with you in order to forget about the long road she faced. But she’s a woman now, one who has fought tooth and nail to climb out of the box that Robert Baratheon placed her in when she was born. She’s no longer a victim of her circumstances trying to make the best of a bad situation. She has found her home in me, in our children, in the love her and I share. Gods help you if you try and get in her way of that.” Jon answers as he steps back from Daario.

Before the two can exchange any further words the echoing of multiple footsteps approaching causes them both to turn and look toward the throne. Daenerys holds Princess Lyanna’s hand, her arm wrapped through Prince Daemon’s as he escorts her toward the pair. Visenya walks behind them holding onto Missandei’s hand and upon seeing her father runs to him with a squeal of delight. Jon catches her around the middle and tosses her up in the air, a smile on his face as he catches her deftly, before kissing her cheek and placing her back down. She grabs onto her father’s leg and looks up at the dark blonde visitor.

“Hello, my Lord,” she says softly, becoming shy at the look of scrutiny Daario has on her. Before Daario can answer though the remaining group is upon them.

“Hello again, Daario Naharis,” Queen Daenerys greets her former advisor with a nod of her head. “I hope my husband and you have been having a pleasant conversation?” Daario looks from the Queen to the King, scanning the faces of their children before looking back up.

“Yes, Your King was just telling me how truly blessed he is to have you in his life.” Daario’s words are laced with an edge of sarcasm that Daenerys quickly picks up on, but does nothing to address. She detaches herself from her son’s arm and transfers her daughter’s hand to grip her skirts as she wraps her arm around Jon’s.

“The same can be said for me. King Jon is an honorable man, a loving husband and a devoted father. The realm is lucky to have a King as good and just as he.” A spark of challenge is issued from the Queen’s eyes as her scrutinizing glare tells him not to say anything further should he want to keep his pride in tact.

“Aye,” Daario nods before looking back to Jon. “If you have no other need of me, I shall take my leave.” He pauses looking back at the Queen’s female companion, “It is good to see you again Missandei. I hope you have been well.”

The dark-haired woman nods her head. “Thank yo,u Daario. I am doing well and I hope your visit to King’s Landing is a good one.”

Daario nods in silence before he turns on his heel, walking out the front entrance of the throne room and disappearing from view. “That looked as if it went over well.” Dany muses.

“Aye,” Jon nods before kissing the Queen’s temple. “Shall we?” He asks looking down at his daughters before grinning at his son.

“Yes yes yes!” Visenya jumps up and down at her father’s side. “Lift me papa!” She cries out. Jon bends and lifts the princess onto his shoulders. She squeals in delight as she grips his hair.

Lyanna looks up at her sister, a pout crosses her face. “I wanna ride on Papa’s shoulders too…”

“Tell ya what,” Jon looks down at the unhappy face of his youngest child. “When we get to the garden fountains, you and Visenya can switch.” Lyanna seems happy with this answer and nods, a smile replacing her pout. Jon winks at her as he offers his arm to Daenerys, his other hand securely wrapped around Visenya’s ankle as the family begins making their way to the Dragon Pits.

King’s Landing had needed a lot of reconstruction after the Battle for the Throne. While Daenerys and Jon were in the North, battling the dead, the Queen’s ally and Jon’s pseudo brother, Theon Greyjoy, wreaked havoc on the city.

His uncle Euron Greyjoy had falsely stated he was going to the Iron Islands, only to turn and run to Essos to pick up the legendary Golden Company. Theon intercepted the pick-up, finding his sister Yara killed. He slew his Uncle in a fit of rage and turned the whole of the Iron Fleet to deliver the Golden Company against Queen Cersei. Many citizens fled the city, but many died in the attack as well. Theon pushed through the gates and sacked King’s Landing only to find that Cersei had fled the city with her steadfast Champion, Ser Gregor Clegane.

The King and Queen stroll through the rebuilt gardens, the many statues of the men and women who died during the wars since Robert Baratheon was killed looking down upon them as they make their way to the reconstructed Dragon Pit.

The gardens are busy as people have been pouring into King’s Landing for the impending tournament.

“BROTHER!” A booming voice calls out and Jon searches for the owner of the voice. Gendry Baratheon is walking toward him, his daughter holding his hand.

“Gendry!” Jon exclaims as he quickly but carefully extricates Visenya from his shoulders. The friends and now relations embrace. Jon looks down at his niece. “That is a very pretty dress you have on Catelyn.”

“Thank you, Your Grace” she curtsies, looking every bit like her mother, red hair, pale skin and large eyes.

“I’m off to see your mother now. Would you like to walk with us to the Dragon Pits?” Jon grins at Catelyn before looking up at Gendry. He looks unsure and his gaze falls on young Catelyn. Her eyes are wide with fear but also excitement.

“I-I’ll protect you…” Daemon pipes up, his face red and eyes glued to the young girl. Catelyn peeks at him coyly and nods her head. Daemon steps forward and offers his arm to the Little Lady of Winterfell. She takes it and he begins walking with her. Jon looks at Daenerys and they both turn their heads to Gendry’s surprised face, all trying to stifle the laughter at the newfound connection between the two.

“Perhaps Targaryens and Starks were always meant to be.” Daenerys laughs softly as she takes her husband’s arm again and they continue their stroll. Lyanna and Visenya hold hands, walking between their parents and the small Prince and Lady.

“Perhaps,” Gendry answers chuckling.

“How does Lady Sansa fair?” Daenerys asks, changing the topic.

“She’s as radiant as ever. She adores being a mother, cried when I brought Catelyn away. But little Jon Eddard is attached to her hip and she’s got our third on the way.”

“I pray for an easy birth.” Dany replies. “Jon you will hug your sister for me when you see her. Tell her that we hope to see her soon in King’s Landing.”

“Aye. Once things between the Wildlings and the northerners become less tense, I will recommend it.” Jon nods as they come into sight of the fountains.

“Papa!” Lyanna turns and looks at Jon. “You said…”

“I know what I said,” Jon teases her. “Get over here.” She runs as fast as her legs will carry her and Jon swoops her up, spinning her to be placed on his shoulders.

“Princess Lyanna, when I last saw you, you were just a babe in your mother’s arms.” Gendry observes, “And my daughter was only about your size now.”

“Pretty soon I’ll be a woman grown, like mama.” Lyanna says sweetly.

“Not too soon,” Jon grumbles. “You will stay a little girl until I say otherwise.”

“You’re silly papa,” Lyanna answers. “Miss says that someday I will have children like Mama and have a Prince or Lord to love and protect me the way you love and protect her.”

“Don’t forget that your mother loves and protects me as much as I do her. Without her I wouldn’t be here today. Nor would you.” Jon answers, Daenerys smiles at her husband tenderly as she bumps her shoulder against his lightly.

“Yes papa.” Lyanna says.

Just then a piercing screech from above indicates that one of the dragons is returning to the city. Drogon flies overhead, his shadow passes over the group. Many gasps echo from around the garden and Lady Catelyn Baratheon buries her head in Daemon’s shoulder. The Prince does not react, he smiles at Catelyn reassuringly.

“That is Drogon, the Dreaded Shadow. My mother rode him in the Battle for the Dawn. He’s the larger of the dragons.” Prince Daemon regurgitates the information he had only learned that morning.

“Will he harm us?” Lady Catelyn asks timidly.

“No, not in the presence of my mother.” Prince Daemon looks back sheepishly at the Queen.

“What else do you know about the dragons?” Lady Catelyn prods the Prince for information.

“Jon,” Gendry begins as the children continue their discussion. “How is Arya?”

Jon pauses before answering. He knows Gendry loves Arya as a sister, perhaps there had once been a potential for more. But once Gendry was legitimized, he had taken to his name, wanting children and to settle down. Arya’s response to him was “That’s not me.”

Arya had left Winterfell to, as she called It, ‘finish her list’ with Brienne of Tarth and Jaime Lannister. She had shown up in King’s Landing some time later and had requested to be in the Queensguard. She was accepted and has since taken to guarding the royal family and teaching The Prince how to fight in the style of a Water Dancer.

“Arya is well. She is a loyal Guard and a valuable teacher. I believe her to be happy here.” Jon answers. Jon knows Gendry is very much in love with Sansa and his family, but he and Arya were all each other had when the country was tearing itself apart.

“Good.” Gendry nods. “So long as she’s happy.”

As the group nears the entrance to the dragon pits Daenerys calls out to Daemon in High Valyrian.. “Kesā māzigon inkot nyke Daemon. Zaldrīzoti issi daor anni.”

Daemon nods and pauses, looking to Catelyn. “Mother must enter first. Dragons are not horses. They do not accept riders easily. When they do, they trust only them.” Catelyn nods in understanding and smiles up at the Queen as they fall behind her step.

The Dragon Pits had been reconstructed during the rebuilding of King’s Landing. Instead of a coliseum for those to gawk upon the beasts, it was built more as a shield, to protect the dragons from view. Large cavern like entrances were made for the dragons to crawl into. They curl up in there to sleep and will leave the pits as they please to hunt and stretch their wings. Citizens of King’s Landing and abroad were now only able to see the dragons when they flew overhead or when their mother allowed.

The slow heavy breathing of a sleeping dragon echoes around the cavernous bowl-like structure The Queen calls out. “Rytsas ñuha riñar. Iksan lēda ñuha byka. Sagon sȳz lēda zirȳ.”

“What is she saying now?” Catelyn whispers to Daemon.

“Mother is announcing our presence. She told them to be gentle with us.” Daemon murmurs back to the young girl.

A deep grumbling followed by the soft shaking of earth signifies that one of the dragons is moving out into the large courtyard. Rhaegal’s head juts out from the large entry to his cave and he looks at his mother, blinking to acknowledge his understanding. Drogon’s tail whips out from the other entrance and he softly lays it out in silent acceptance of his mother’s approach.

In ten years the dragons have grown even larger than they were when they fought the Night King. Rhaegal’s head is taller than a horse. He’s easily larger than any ship in the harbor. Drogon is still larger however.

Jon removes Lyanna from his shoulders and places her behind the Queen. He steps toward to his accepted dragon, reaching out a hand to his snout. Rhaegal’s eyes close and open, the pupils dilating and he relaxes, a hot huff of breath escaping his nostrils as he does so.

“Daemon, you may approach now.” Jon says as he glances back at his son. 

Daemon looks to Lady Catelyn and her eyes are wide with fear and trepidation. “Are you ready?” He squeezes her hand and she gulps before looking up at Gendry.

“It’s alright, your Uncle won’t let anything happen to you.” Gendry adds. The young red head sets her jaw and takes a step forward with Daemon. Rhaegal stays still watching as the young pair approach. Jon’s hand rests on his neck. Lady Catelyn gets within arm’s reach and hesitantly stretches out to touch the creature. As she makes contact she gasps.

“He’s warm.” She wonders aloud. Daemon chuckles next to her and reaches out to stroke Rhaegal as well.

“Dragons are fire made flesh.” Daenerys answers as she too approaches Rhaegal and kneels next to the young girl, placing her hand next to hers. Rhaegal almost purrs under his mother’s touch and his eyes close.

“He’s beautiful.” Lady Catelyn says before she steps back.

“Visenya, Lyanna.” Jon beckons them over to where he’s standing. Visenya smiles and walks confidently toward him, while Lyanna does not move, her fingers splaying with her dress, eyes cast downward.

Visenya walks up to the King and he lifts her, holding her legs as her torso reaches for the dragons. She presses her cheek right up next to Rhaegal’s throat and giggles. “I can hear a big ‘thumping’.”

That’s his heartbeat.” Jon whispers. It’s slower than ours.”

Gendry looks down at Lyanna, before kneeling next to her and whispering. “I’m afraid, do you think I can hold you so that I’m less afraid?” She looks up at him, eyes wide and threatening to spill tears. She nods and he lifts her in his arms. Jon looks back at Gendry, a silent thank you passing between them.

“Alright,” says the Queen. “Time for the King to leave. Step back so that Rhaegal can exit children.”

Lady Catelyn scurries back to her father who takes her hand and begins to walk backwards away from the dragon.

Jon announces loudly to his dragon their intentions to fly North. “Rhaīgal, īlon sōvegon naejot Ropatasōnar bisa bantis.” Rhaegal lifts his head and Jon steps back from him, Visenya in his arms. Daenerys takes Daemon’s hand and leads him toward Gendry.

Rhaegal, more agile than Drogon practically slips from the darkness of the cavern. A gasp from Catelyn is almost drowned out in the great rumblings of the dragon’s movements. Rhaegal looks down at Jon expectantly and Jon nods. He turns back to his wife and sets Visenya down next to her.

He kneels down next to his son and looks into his violet eyes. “You are almost a man grown now. While I’m away you are to protect your mother and sisters. Don’t do anything too reckless and make sure that should anything happen, you find Grey Worm or Gendry. Do you understand?”

“I understand father.” Daemon nods once and looks up at his mother and then to his sister at her side and then the one in Gendry’s arms. “I’ll make sure they’re safe.”

“Good.” Jon kisses his forehead before he stands swiftly. He grasps Gendry’s hand. “I’ll see you soon Baratheon. I look forward to seeing you fight in the tournament. I shall hug your wife for you and let her know you and Catelyn are safe.”

“Aye,” Gendry answers. “See you soon brother.” Jon leans in to kiss Lyanna’s forehead. She wraps her arms around her father’s neck.

“Bye papa.” She whispers.

“I’ll see you soon sweet girl.” Jon replies before pulling away.

“Papa!” Visenya wails. “Do you have to go?” She has big tears in her eyes and looks up at him in a pitifully desperate way. Jon kneels next to her and she melts into his arms.

“I do Vissy.” Jon runs his hand over her fair hair as she presses her face into his chest. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

“How many sleeps?” She asks looking up at him.

“Five at the most.” He says kissing her forehead. She huffs in annoyance and nods.

Jon stands and Daenerys steps forward. “Stay with Gendry.” She says to her children as her and Jon walk toward Rhaegal.

“Jon,” she murmurs as they near the winged being. “I don’t know why, but I have a bad feeling about something. Please be safe. Don’t do anything dumb.”

“You are requesting a great deal of me. I am a Northern Fool after all.” His half tease falls flat at the look on her face.

“I’m being serious. I understand your duty to the North is what’s driving this hurried trip, but I just feel like you’re needed here.”

“Aye,” Jon nods. “I will try and be as quick as possible with my business in Winterfell. If I can I will be there and back in three days.”

Daenerys nods. “Alright, then kiss me goodbye and make it a good one. I fear I may grow restless in our bed after last night.” Jon smirks at her, that primal glint she saw the night prior sends shivers up her spine. Jon pulls her to him and kisses her hard, cupping her head as he softly bites her lip.

An annoyed huff that sends up a cloud of dust by Rhaegal causes them to separate. “Yeah, yeah. Ivestragī nyke ivestragon geros ilas naejot aōha muña.” Jon says looking back at the restless beast.

“Your High Valyrian is still terrible.” Daenerys teases him.

“Aye,” he nods. “My tongue wasn’t made for these types of dragons. It was made for the one between your legs.” Daenerys laughs out loud and swats him.

“Leave now. The sooner you leave, the sooner you can get back and practice your High Valyrian on me some more.” She quirks an eyebrow at him. He kisses her once more and steps away, turning to Rhaegal who lowers his shoulder for Jon to climb up. He climbs quickly onto the spiked back of the scale armored creature.

“Sōvegon!” Jon shouts and Rhaegal coils as he springs up into the sky, wings buffeting the area in dust as his powerful limbs push him into the air. Daenerys watches her husband fly off on the back of one of her children before she turns and walks back to her others. Taking Visenya’s hand the group, now one short, makes their way back through the gardens to the castle once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Kesā māzigon inkot nyke Daemon. Zaldrīzoti issi daor anni.: "Stay behind me Daemon. Dragons are not horses."
> 
> Rytsas ñuha riñar. Iksan lēda ñuha byka. Sagon sȳz lēda zirȳ.: "Hello my children. I am with my little ones. Be gentle with them."
> 
> Rhaīgal, īlon sōvegon naejot Ropatasōnar bisa bantis.: "Rhaegal, we will fly to Winterfell tonight."
> 
> Ivestragī nyke ivestragon geros ilas naejot aōha muña.: "Let me say goodbye to your mother."
> 
> Sōvegon: "Fly"


	6. Unknown Tidings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon finds himself in the presence of a strange visitor as he wakes from a nightmare.

She is laid beneath him, silver hair fanned across the pillows, her legs wrap around his waist, a loving gaze burning a hole into him. He surges forward a gasp escapes her lips, he retracts and she sighs, another strong surge forward and she moans. They continue this slow rhythm until she is begging him. He leans forward and kisses her hard, his hips continue a slow agonizing pace until she’s clawing at his back.

He rolls them over so that she can take him however she pleases. She pauses at the shift before grinning down at him wickedly. “Are you my dragon?” She asks.

“I am whatever you need me to be.” Jon answers up at her before he pushes his hips, bucking her forward so her face is within reach of his lips. She hums contently before she attacks his mouth with hers. He growls lowly as his hands find purchase on her ass, trying unsuccessfully to move her over his length. Her thighs and legs are too strong and she maintains her position over him, sitting up and reaching behind to remove his hands. She places them on her breasts before she rocks her hips. He bites his lip as his head rolls back into the mattress.

“Fuck, Dany I could never get enough of you.” He bends his knees slightly giving her something to push back on.

“Nor I you, Jon.” She’s rocks back onto him as she says his name.

“Show me what kind of rider you are.” He challenges her and she smirks before pushing back from his chest, his hands drop to her hips. She brings his thumb to where their bodies meet and she guides him to the bundle of nerves there, slowly circling his thumb as she moans. The pleasure must be enough for her to need more friction because she begins rolling her hips over his length and the feel is delicious. He groans as he watches her take her pleasure above him.

Her moans become breathier as her hips increase their fervor. Her eyes try and stay locked on him, but she begins to falter, her head rolling back to look at the canopy above them as her mouth drops open.

“Mmm, Jon, I love how your cock feels inside me.” A shiver goes up his spine at her words.

“It’s only yours, my Queen.” He manages to say as she picks up her speed. Her breathing increases and he knows she’s building. He sits up, his lips finding purchase on her nipple as he replaces his thumb with his fingers. She moans loudly at the shift.

“Fuck, Jon… I’m going to…” She moans again, cutting off her words. He growls as he nips at the sensitive peak. She almost screams as her hips double down. “YES, YES, YES OH YES! JON!” Her cries signal that she’s reached her ecstasy and he moves quickly, pushing his knees under him, crossing his ankles he begins ploughing into her. She screams louder at the change, her body shaking as he sets a punishing rhythm, his balls tightening in preparation of release. He has one hand wrapped around her neck as the other holds her hips, his thumb continuing its ministrations between her lower lips. He stays attached to her nipple as he growls against her flesh continuing to rut into her hard and fast. Before she can come down from the intense pleasure, he feels himself reach the beginnings of his.

“DANY! FUCK! MINE!” He latches his mouth onto the column of her throat and grunts as he feels himself explode inside her. They continue moving against each other, slower though, their lips worshipping one another’s. Jon finally slips out from his beautiful wife and lays them down on their soft bed, sweat beads on their foreheads and the room feels stifling.

Her grateful smile lingers as she looks at him. She presses her lips to his once before she sits up and walks toward her robe. She slips it on and walks into the other room.

“Where are you going wife?” He calls after her, but receives no response. A minute passes before he gets curious enough to rise from their bed. He enters the solar and does not see her. He looks around and catches something out of the corner of his eye.

Her hand is lying on the ground outstretched, blood dripping from her fingertips. Panic floods through him and he screams out.

“No, no, no, no, no, no! Dany! No please love, no!” He rushes to her side, her eyes are lifeless, she’s bleeding but he doesn’t know where from. He cups her head and her braids fall from his fingers onto the blood soaked floor.

“DANY! Don’t leave me! I can’t lose you!” Tears are blurring his vision, streaming down his face, dropping onto her cheeks. His arms hold her, pulling her body to his chest, wanting to give her his heart, trade places if he can. He buries his face in her silver hair a sob rips through his chest.

Jon’s eyes snap open, his sob wakes him and he begins gasping for fresh air. It’s night, he’s curled up next to Rhaegal who is sleeping peacefully, large breaths sending low rumblings through the small clearing. Jon buries his head in the warm furs of his cloak, wiping away his tears and taking a couple of shaky breaths to calm himself. The dream tonight was so much more vivid, and it had never involved he and Dany making love before he found her body.

He ponders over what could have caused this change. He missed her, especially after last night. He knew that she loved him, knew that she was true to only him, but it still didn’t stop him from overreacting to Daario’s presence. He hadn’t felt this way towards Jorah Mormont, and he knew Dany felt stronger for Jorah than she did Daario. Perhaps it was the anxiety he felt being away from his family.

He sits up and pushes his back against the warm belly of Rhaegal. It’s comforting, but his mind is wide awake. Normally after having this nightmare he’d stare at Dany until his mind calmed and sleep took him again. Part of him wants to mount Rhaegal and turn back for King’s Landing, to climb into bed with the love of his life and kiss every inch of her until he was convinced that there was nothing ailing any part of her.

He huffs and shakes the images out of his mind. She has a thousand guards to defend her, what could possibly happen in the three to four days he has remaining on this diplomatic mission? Everything will be fine, he’ll check in with his sister, meet with the wildlings, pay his respects in the crypts and be back before the tournament. He would sit on a dais watching men beat each other at swordplay, archery and jousting while they drank themselves into a stupor.

In truth, he was happy that they had finally rebuilt and stabilized the country enough to afford a tournament. Things felt like they were getting back to normal. They were hard pressed for a while there after the war. The winter remained even after the Night King was defeated. It remained for eight long years. The snows and the winds and the freezing temperatures caused the deaths of thousands.

The Iron Bank had helped some, allowing them to use funds to rebuild, purchase trade from Dorne and Essos, build ships to ferry those trades across the seas. Jaime Lannister forgave the debt that the crown had owed in a show of good faith toward the new reign. He and Brienne of Tarth reside in Casterly Rock now, keeping quiet. He wonders if he will see them at the tournament. As the Hand of the Queen, Tyrion must have sent them an invitation.

Jon huffs again, he doesn’t think he will be going back to sleep. He stokes the dying embers of his camp and sits back, watching the small flames lick the half-burnt log. He owes his life to fire, the Lord of Fire, of Light. The God that Lady Melisandre sacrificed herself to in order to bring back Jon. The memory of his second resurrection comes into his mind as he sits in silence.

He accepted the fact that he would die in combat against the Night King, and he did. The Night King was stronger than he was, but Jon had something to fight for, he had duty, honor, family, love, life. When the Night King tore that ice blade through Jon’s stomach, he actually smiled. The Night King’s stare did nothing to him and as he continued to glare at him, waiting for death to take Jon, Jon pulled a dragonglass dagger from his sleeve and thrust it through the Night King’s chin, lodging it into his head before watching as he dissipated into millions of ice crystals. Jon fell to his knees and as he felt the last bit of life slip from him, he stared up at the form of a dragon and the beautiful woman atop it, the smile on his face grew before it slackened and the world went dark.

It stayed dark, for what felt like years, until all of a sudden he felt like he was crawling out of that damned lake of ice again. He was gasping air into his lungs, he was staring at dancing light on a ceiling of stone, there was a heaviness on his chest and when he looked down to see what it was, silver braids caked in ice framed the face of his beautiful Queen, a sobbing sound ripping from her lips, echoing through the room in tandem with his deep breaths.

“What did you do?” He had breathed, almost angry. He had done it and he was free. Free to let the world be in peace. Free to let the woman he loved rule over the country she had fought to have since birth. He slowly sat up, looking down at the painted table of Dragonstone. The intricately carved stone served as his resurrection altar. A red silken gown laid pooled on the floor, next to a brazier, ash drifted from the folds of the dress. “Dany,” he croaked. “Why would you bring me back?! I didn’t want to be brought back! YOU ARE THE RIGHTFUL HEIR, NOT ME! YOU DON’T NEED ME TO RULE THIS KINGDOM! I WAS ONLY SUPPOSED TO SAVE IT!”

Her eyes went wide and she shook her head as tears brimmed and fell down her cheeks. She reached out and slapped him hard across the face. “You listen to me Jaehaerys Aegon Targaryen,” She spat. “I could not let you go. You saved this Kingdom, you saved me, you saved our future! If you do not wish to rule, that is fine. I will be the Queen and you the Protector. I will be the Judgement and you the Justice. We will rebuild this country together! But don’t for an instant think that I was letting you go because I can’t do it on my own. I can be both Queen and King, but I cannot be both mother and father!” Her hands went protectively to her belly and Jon’s thoughts went out of his head.

“Father?” He breathed as he looked into her eyes for the truth of her words. He knew she would never lie about that, not when she thought it an impossibility. They had both accomplished the impossible before, why not this? He slid off the table and took a step toward her. His hands cupped her face and he looked her in the eye. “I’m going to be a father?” She nodded at him, her anger subsiding as a smile flited across her features.

Jon looked down at the soft swell of her. How had he not noticed? He was so consumed by the coming war he did not see the growth of her breasts, the widening of her hips or the gentle bowl beginning to form beneath the white fur coat. He dropped to his knees and pressed his forehead gently against her protrusion. His child was inside her, tears blurred his vision as he looked up at his beautiful wife, his arms wrapping around her legs, his hands on her lower back. He softly kissed her belly before whispering. “I’m so sorry. I will _never_ leave either of you alone in this world again.”

Jon is broken from his memory as the snap of a breaking stick echoes from the darkness just beyond the edge of the clearing.

“Who’s there?” He calls out. Rhaegal lifts his head slightly, his body tensing at the sound of Jon calling out. Jon’s eyes scan the darkness. He had flown until the sun sunk below the horizon. He made it to the northern foothills of the Mountains of the Moon. He knew that hill clans still rebelled in these mountains, but what clansman would dare disturb a dragon, even if they had no idea who the King of the country they resided in was?

Jon stands and draws Longclaw, readying himself for anything. Anything except what walks out from the forest. A child? Jon squints as if not trusting what he sees. Spring green eyes reflect at him, angular features, wild hair and clothing that looks as if it was made from nature itself.

“Who are you?” Jon asks suspiciously, lowering Longclaw slightly.

“It does not matter who I am.” The ethereal voice greets Jon’s ears. “I know who you are. Jon Snow, Jaehaerys Aegon Targaryen, King of the Seven Kingdoms, Ruler of the Andals and the First Men, King in the North, The White Wolf, Father of Dragons, Night Slayer. How fairs your Lightbringer? Your Dragon Queen?” The small form steps closer to him until the dim light of the fire illuminates her features.

“How do you know me? How do you know Daenerys?” Jon’s grip on his weapon tightens.

“I’ve seen you. Both of you. In my green dreams. You saved this land. You vanquished what should never have been created. You have brought magic back into this world.” She looks to Rhaegal who has his eyes trained on her, his toothy maw opened slightly as he sniffs the air, as if trying to understand her based upon her smell.

Jon stares at her blankly, not sure what to make of this being. “I thought the children of the forest all died?” He narrows his gaze.

Her eyes meet his again. “Not all of us. Few remain, but we are still here, as we have always been, watching from the trees.” The way she said trees, made him think it wasn’t just from the edge of the clearing she had been watching from.

“What do you want of me? Why did you approach?” Jon relaxes slightly, letting Longclaw rest at his side.

“To warn you.” She whispers.

“Warn me? Of what?” Jon asks forcefully.

“Of your brother.” Her gaze shifts back to Rhaegal once more and she takes a step toward the dragon. Rhaegal tenses as does Jon.

“I would not go near him.” Jon snaps. “Dragons are not tamed pets. They are wild beasts-“

“I _know_ what dragons are.” She snaps her head in his direction, silencing him with a look. “Dragons are fire made flesh. They burn and destroy, but they also make new. They bring seeds of life and magic with them.” Her voice softens once more as she takes another step toward Rhaegal, this time the dragon breathes deep, and relaxes, eyes trained on the small being. She stands before Rhaegal, and stretches her hand out. Jon’s grip tenses on his weapon and he rushes a couple of steps forward, her fierce gaze stops him in his tracks.  “I will not harm him. His mate needs him alive.” Jon looks at her distrustfully, but stalls his advance.

“A dragon alone in the world is a terrible thing.” She whispers almost inaudibly before she touches her hand to Rhaegal’s snout. The dragon almost trembles and sighs deeply, his eyes closing. A tense moment passes before his large green orbs open again. “Be still young one. You are safe.” The being steps back and toward the low fire once more.

“What did you do to him?” Jon edges as he checks Rhaegal, running his hands along the warm scales on his nose and face.

“I shared with him the memories of his kind.” The girl sits next to the fire. “My name is not one you would understand, but you may call me Whisp.”

“Whisp?” Jon replies. “Alright Whisp, tell me why you disturbed me and my dragon, _aside_ from unknown tidings and cryptic messages.” Jon slams Longclaw back into its sheath before resting his hand on his hip and looking at the girl.

“Your brother will awaken soon.” Jon’s face goes blank.

“Bran? He’s been asleep for ten years.”

“He’s been asleep for longer than that. He’s been asleep since he fell from the tower.”

“What are you talking about?!” Jon yells. “Bran woke up before my father died, before my brother died, before I became King in the North. Bran went north of the wall and came back, he told me he became the Three-Eyed Raven.”

“You know nothing Jon Snow.” Whisp looks at him, a glint in her eye as Jon’s heart leaps into his throat. “Brandon has always only been Brandon Stark of Winterfell. When he fell from that tower, his body was broken, along with his mind. The Three-Eyed Raven found him in his dreams. The Three-Eyed Raven brought Brandon back so he could be used as an instrument in the Battle for the Dawn. He gave Bran the tools that you needed to defeat the Night King.”

Jon, feeling overwhelmed by all of the new information, sits, putting his head between his knees, trying to absorb what Whisp is telling him.

“When the Three-Eyed Raven awoke Brandon, he summoned him to the Heart Tree. He showed him what it was he needed to know, and he became one with Brandon. Used Brandon’s body in order to travel back to Winterfell, in order to help save you, help save Daenerys. You two were the key to defeating the Night King.”

“How?!” Jon asks, his face snapping up.

“Because you were both reborn in fire. The Night King could not see what your path was. You were brought back by the Lord of Light, the true enemy of the darkness. You were the shifting point of the entire war.”

“I still don’t understand.” Jon answers. “Are you saying that because Daenerys walked into her husband’s funeral pyre in order to rebirth her dragons… and because Lady Melisandre brought me back with the faith of the Lord of Light, that we were chosen?”

“Yes, to an extent.” She huffs. “There is balance in all things Jon. Life and Death. Light and Dark. Good and Evil. The Three-Eyed Raven and the Night King stood opposed. Both beings born of ancient rituals with magical rites. One could not exist without the other. The moment you struck down the Night King, you also killed the Three-Eyed Raven. Your brother Brandon was rid of the possession of the old one and has since been attempting to recover from his injuries born of the tower accident.”

Jon stares, open mouthed at the small foreign looking creature. “And he will awaken soon?” Whisp nods. “Will he remember any of it?”

“He will remember all of it.” She sighs. “It is his curse and his gift.”

“Will he walk again?” Jon queries sadly.                                         

“It’s possible.” She answers. “He has had ten years to heal. His body may have fully recovered now.” Jon lets out a shaky breath. “Jaehaerys…” Whisp says once more and Jon looks at her again. “I must leave now, but before I do, there is one more thing to tell you.”

She stands and looks down upon him over the embers of the flames. “Your dragons must leave you. They will return, but first they need travel to their birth place.”

“Essos?” Jon asks.

Whisp sighs in exasperation. “No, Valyria.”

“What for?” Jon ponders.

“Your wife once thought she was the only Targaryen until she found you. Now she believes that her dragons are the only two remaining. It is not true. Rhaegal and Drogon will return with more of their kind, your children will become dragon riders in their own right. The Targaryen succession will continue, will strengthen. You and Daenerys were chosen. This is what you were chosen for. _This_ is why the Lord of Light returned you to her side ten years ago at Dragonstone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bet ya didn't see that coming... I know I didn't.


	7. Devious Intentions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daenerys encounters tough conversations.

Daenerys stands and feels a slight stiffness in her joints from sitting upon the throne of forged swords. It is only mid-afternoon as she enters the small council chambers. Varys and Grey Worm are seated at the table already and Tyrion follows closely behind the Queen.

“I don’t believe there will be much to discuss today,” Tyrion sighs, “The matters today seemed simple enough, the city seems eager for the upcoming tourney.”

“How fare the common folk?” Daenerys looks at Varys.

“My birds report that there is much drinking, some various tavern brawls but Grey Worm’s patrols seem to break it up before there is too much damage in the form of structures or bystanders. Also, the brothels are full, the shopkeepers are trading goods and coin is in surplus, the bards are singing praises of the war, of the Dragon Queen and the White Wolf, of the Targaryen name on all corners. All is peaceful. You fit the throne well.” A knowing smirk passes from Varys to the Queen. She had once made him promise to tell her if she was failing the people, and she continues to pester him about that promise to this day.

“Thank you, Varys, please inform me at once if your Little Birds report any ill tidings.” Varys nods at her. “Grey Worm, how are patrols? Are the guards overworked? Are there any injured?”

“This one is happy to report that the guards are fully capable. The shifts are well covered and the small scuffles have resulted in few injuries and no deaths.” A smile crosses Daenerys’ face and she turns to Tyrion.

“How is the coin?” She asks her Hand

“We are making profits from the tax on merchants and still leaving them happy with what they are able to take home to their families. As people flock to the city for the tourney, they bring with them trade goods, imports and gold from afar. I daresay we will have enough to pay the tourney rewards _and_ pay back part of our debt to the Iron Bank.”

Daenerys nods and looks back at Tyrion. “How fairs the city itself? The rebuilding of the former Sept of Baelor?”

“Quite well, Your Grace.” Daenerys and Jon had agreed that the decimated ground of Cersei’s madness was an eyesore upon the city. They had decided that instead of simply rebuilding, they would at first repurpose. The war had cost many lives and the winter afterward even more. The Queen and King had a hastily constructed orphanage built in its place to serve as a home where the parentless children could recuperate. Daenerys had spent many days there herself, feeding, bathing, clothing and even singing to the children in the days after the war. She would make sure that the kitchens of the orphanage were stocked before her own Keep was.

Now however, most of the orphans were grown. Fewer beds were being used and it didn’t make much sense for the large building to remain an orphanage. They had decided to return the grounds to their former faithful purpose and construction had started only a year prior. “I believe that the stained glass will be installed soon.”

“Very well,” Daenerys nods. “If there is nothing else the small council has need of me for, I shall retire to the needs of my children.”

“As you command Your Grace.” Tyrion nods at her and the scraping chairs echoes through the chamber.

Daenerys stands and makes her way through the winding halls of the Keep until she finds the children’s rooms. Missandei is there with Visenya and Lyanna, a couple of handmaidens flit in or out of the room. Dany pauses outside of the door, hoping to overhear them uninterrupted.

“Miss?” Lyanna’s voice meets Daenerys’ ears and she smiles, imagining the furrow of her dark-haired daughter.

“Yes Lyanna?” Missandei answers.

“I was thinking about what brother read this morning…” The child muses.

“About the dragons?” Missandei clarifies. “Or about your mother?”

“Both…” Lyanna huffs. “If mama birthed three dragons, could she birth more?”

“Well…” Missandei ponders. “It would depend. In order to birth more dragons, there would have to be more dragon eggs. As far as we know, the Queen’s eggs were the only remaining. It could be that if there are more eggs, that there could be more dragons.”

“So if there are more eggs, how do you hatch them?” Lyanna continues her questions.

“I do not know for sure. When I met your mother she already had her dragons. I was not present in their birth. I do know they were born in flame.”

“Only death can pay for life.” Visenya’s voice cuts in, an eerie tone of a child that seems to know something she shouldn’t.

“What was that?” Missandei’s inquiry is laced in concern and surprise.

“Only death can pay for life…” Visenya’s answer is more firm. “That’s what mama said this morning. She had to give up her dead husband to birth her dragons. In order to birth other dragons, only death can pay for life.” The room is silent and it’s at that point Daenerys has decided to break the tension. She knocks on the slightly open door before walking in.

“Mama!” Lyanna sings out as she scrambles out of her chair and runs to the waiting arms of her mother. The young princess wraps her arms around Daenerys’ neck and hugs her tight, kissing her cheek.

“Are you done with court Mama?” Visenya asks as she too approaches her mother.

“I am.” Dany nods at her older daughter, kissing her white blonde hair. “I came to steal you away from your lessons. Where is Daemon?”

“He’s down with Arya in the training pits.” Missandei answers standing and smiling.

“Let’s go see how he is doing. Would you like to join us Missandei?” Dany asks. She knows that Missandei’s affection for the children runs deep as she cannot have her own, or at least cannot have them with the man she loves. Missandei nods and approaches the trio, Visenya reaches for her tutor’s hand as they begin their trek down to the courtyard.

“What did Missandei teach you today?” Daenerys asks her daughters as they make their way through the Red Keep.

“We learned about the Houses of the North.” Visenya answers. “About Papa’s Kingdom.”

“That’s where Papa is going today right?” Lyanna asks.

“Yes, he should be arriving there tomorrow.” Dany answers.

“That is where Aunt Sansa is the Hand of the King. She lives there with Uncle Gendry and their two children Catelyn and Jon Eddard.” Visenya continues to recite the information she had learned earlier. “She rules the North in Father’s stead as he is the Protector of the Realm. His duty is to protect the Queen, to lead the armies, to keep the peace and to serve justice.”

“That’s right.” Daenerys answers. “And why did he remain King in the North?”

“Because the North Remembers.” Lyanna whispers. It wasn’t the answer the Queen expected and she looks at her child with curiosity.

“What do you mean by that?” Daenerys queries. Lyanna blushes and purses her lips.

“I don’t know.” The princess brushes her dark curls from her face and shrugs as she looks up at her mother. “I’ve heard father say it sometimes. When he talks about the Great War.” Daenerys sets her mouth in a line, unsure of how to continue.

“You father remained King in the North because he is a Stark. Starks have always ruled the North.” Missandei answers.

“But Papa is also Targaryen.” Visenya argues.

“Yes, he is.” Daenerys answers. “His father was Rhaegar Targaryen, his mother was Lyanna Stark. Who you were named after.” She squeezes the small hand in hers. “He is of both houses, therefore he was born to be a King. That is why he and I agreed that he would rule the North and I would rule the South.”

“But what will happen when Daemon becomes King?” VIsenya asks.

“That would mean Mama and Papa would be DEAD!” Lyanna shouts, her lip trembling as she stops in her tracks and looks up at her mother.

“It does.” Daenerys kneels next to her youngest daughter. “Valar morghulis.”

“But we are not men!” She argues, large tears welling in her eyes. “We are dragons!”

“Lyanna,” Dany coos as she pulls her daughter close to her. “Death is what gives our lives meaning. We must do what is right so that when we die, our lives served a purpose. If no one died then there would be few consequences to living. To loving. You are how your father and I continue living. You and your sister and brother. You are the meaning to living. Someday you will become the rulers and your children after you. You must always try to make the world a better place for them, just as I want to make this world a better place for you. Do you understand?”

“Y-ye-yesss!” Lyanna sobs as her tears wet the fabric of her mother’s dress. “B-but you and p-papa can’t die yet. We’re t-tt-tooo little!”

“Oh sweetie…” Daenerys’ heart breaks just a little and she fights the lump rising in her throat. “Your papa and I aren’t going anywhere right now. Gods be good we will be here to witness you have babies of your own.”

“P-promise?” Lyanna whimpers as she pulls her head back, her face splotched red and her ice blue eyes made brighter by the tears.

“I promise.” Dany kisses her daughter’s forehead and hugs her tight. “Alright. Now quit those tears and let’s go down and watch Daemon get knocked around by your Aunt Arya.” Lyanna smiles and nods as she wipes away the tears.

The Queen and her companions arrive to the training yard a short time later, the sound of wood crashing against wood catching their curiosity. As they turn the corner they find Daemon, training sword in hand and sparring with Daario Naharis. Arya and Gendry stand back to the side and watch the pair. The Little Lady of Winterfell stands next to her father, her rapt attention on Daemon.

Daemon is much smaller than the Sellsword Captain, his reach is not as long and he is clumsy but he is still young. Daenerys watches the pair and furrows her brow. She has seen what Daario is capable of and it makes her uneasy. She can tell the Braavosi is holding back, but still, to see the glint in his eye of playing with Daemon as if in a game of cat and mouse raises her hackles.

“Aunt Arya!” Lyanna calls out as she runs to the small woman. Arya smiles and lifts Lyanna, tossing her swiftly in the air before attaching her to her hip. The two have the similar Northern features. Daemon’s attention is broken from the spar and as a result he is disarmed easily by Daario.

“You must never let what is around you detract from what is before you. Keep your eyes on your opponent.” Daario smirks at the Young Prince and Daemon nods, picking the training sword up and resting his eyes on the form of his mother approaching.

“Hello Mother.” He bows his head in respect. “Is court out early?”

“Yes, the city seems busy preparing for your name day tournament and business with The Crown seems to be not as important. I see training is going well.” Daenerys eyes the bearded man next to her son, who claps a hand on the young boy’s shoulder and smiles at her.

“Your son has a talent. More training and he’ll be a proper swordsman. From what I hear, his father is the best in the Kingdom.”

“You’ve heard correctly.” Gendry boasts as he steps toward the trio. “King Jon is quite formidable in in battle. In hand to hand, he’s nigh unstoppable.”

“I may have to challenge him to a duel.” Daario looks at the Queen, a flash of indiscernible emotion crosses his face before he smiles again.

“Mother,” Daemon begins. “If it’s alright with you, I’ve invited Daario to dine with us tonight again. He’s promised to tell me of his time serving you in Essos.”

“Is that so?” Daenerys smiles at her son before turning a fiery gaze on Daario. “I suppose if you’ve already invited him, it would be difficult for me to say no.”

“I understand King Jon has left the Capital. There would be a seat next to you that is unoccupied, no?” Daario’s smirk makes Daenerys want to smack him.

“Please mother?” Daemon looks at her in such a way that she smiles.

“I suppose that would be fine. Daemon, you may sit in your father’s chair next to me and Daario may sit between you and Gendry.” She looks over to Gendry, a surprised look on his face.

“Of course, my Queen.” Daario and Gendry respond at the same time.

“Excellent. Daemon,” Daenerys reaches for her son to join her. “Would you care to go and see the travelers and merchants arrive down by the docks?”

“Oh can we?!” The Young Prince’s eyes light up and he looks back at the young red-haired girl standing by Arya still. “Would it be alright if Lady Catelyn joins us?” The young girl smiles at the Queen.

“I don’t see any reason why not.” Daenerys answers. The Young Prince returns his training sword to the rack and walks to the young Baratheon girl, offering her an arm again. Lyanna, having been deposited back on the ground is holding her sister’s hand, the two giggling and pointing at their brother.

“Shall we?” Daario offers his arm to Daenerys and she fights the urge to roll her eyes. Instead, letting politeness win, she takes his elbow. Gendry falls in line with Arya. Missandei joins Visenya and Lyanna as they near her. A group of guards flank either side of the young princes and princesses and follow behind the group as well.

Gendry and Arya stay just out range to be overheard, forcing Daenerys to make pleasantries with Daario. “What do you think of King’s Landing?” Daenerys asks the foreign Commander.

“I don’t think my opinion on this city matters much.” He states. “But for what it’s worth, I think it’s beautiful, if only for the reason that you reside here.”

“I would warn you to quit while you are ahead.” Daenerys glances at him from the side of her eyes, but keeps her face placid. “Your saccharine words fall on deaf ears.”

“I apologize.” Daario answers coolly. “I cannot deny that I have witnessed your affection for your King first hand. Thank you for the summons for that by the way. Here I was, thinking that perhaps seeing me at the feast had renewed some sort of-“

“Stop.” Daenerys squeezes his arm, lowering her voice as she continues. “I did not summon you to my chambers whilst I was in such a compromising position.”

“Ah, so it was your husband?” Daario muses. “He wished me to witness the way he fucked you with your hands tied and his head between your-“

“STOP!” She hissed, almost too loudly, glancing around to see if any of their party noticed their tense conversation. “I apologize for you having to witness that. It should not have happened. I was under the assumption that Jon apologized as well.” She looks at him.

“He did.” Daario nods. “And yet, I did not feel it was sincere. Tell me something, if your husband and you are so in love and if he fulfills your every desire so well, then how come he needed to prove it to someone as lowly as me? Perhaps my words last night affected him more than you?”

“I could not say.” Daenerys answers tersely. “My husband is a proud man, it is true. He has a lot to be proud of. We have three beautiful children together and Gods be good, after last night, a fourth on the way.” The Queen looks at her escort sharply. “That does not mean he is infallible. He can be foolish or reckless when it comes to proving himself to me. Love makes us do things we wouldn’t normally do. Make no mistake, I was furious at him for having put you in that situation. It was not fair to you and it was beyond embarrassing for me. But ultimately, he is a good man. He is loyal to me, worships his children and is dedicated to making the seven kingdoms better. I forgave him last night and I simply ask you to forget what happened.”

Daario huffs and looks at her with a tone of annoyance before he nods once. They were quiet for a while, both lost in their own thoughts until he break their silence. “I have not seen the Old Bear, Jorah Mormont around. Is he hiding? Or is he out doing your bidding still?”

Daenerys sighs and looks at him, a sadness morphs her face. “Ser Jorah died before Daemon was born.” Daenerys answers quietly.

Daario’s gaze drops to the ground. “How?”

“Many lives were lost to us in the war.” Daenerys answers. “Jorah died sacrificing his life for all of us.”

“No, he sacrificed it for you. Never forget that.” He looks at Daenerys and it’s as if he can see the guilt she carries at the loss of her most devoted advisor and friend. “He wouldn’t have died for anyone else. It seems you have a way of doing that. Of inspiring love so strong that men would do anything to prove themselves.”

“You didn’t.” She observes and before he can respond her daughters are rushing to them with excitement. The docks have come into view and the princesses want their mother to share in their joy at seeing the foreign ships with exotic sails. There are wares and goods being unloaded and the people of all types are walking among the docks.

There are Dornish wine merchants, silk vendors from the trade cities in Essos, jewelers with bright baubles and delicate chains, the diverse peoples from all over the world spot the royal family and point from afar. Small children approach with flowers and hand them to their Silver Queen, women curtsy and swoon at the sight of the young Targaryens, men’s eyes are drawn to the beauty of their Queen as she holds the hands of her children. She smiles and waves, politely asking some questions of their stay and what lands they traveled from.

As the bustle of the docks and the marketplace swallows them, Daenerys catches Daario’s eye and suddenly she understands what her husband meant the night before. _I’ve seen him lurking, watching you from afar. As if he wants to conquer you all over again._ She decides then that she will double the guards that are guarding their rooms for the remainder of time that Jon is away Just to be safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to split this chapter up, it was getting a little long. So it allows me to post sooner, but also the next chapter is already started, so less time to wait!


End file.
